


Into Dark Places

by shealynn88



Category: Supernatural
Genre: FBI Agent Sam, Hate Sex, M/M, Not Related, handjobs, mafia member dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:13:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24781351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shealynn88/pseuds/shealynn88
Summary: This was written for the SPN Masquerade: FBI Sam and Mafia Dean having angry sex as they play cat and mouse.  In my head it ended up being a sort of Hannibal-esque relationship.Sam’s vision goes red and he presses back, one huge hand around Dean’s throat, squeezing, squeezing, and there’s a part of his brain telling him to stop, to get the cuffs, to do it right.But the part of him in charge says this is the right way.  Theonlyway.  The only way they were ever going to end this - there’s no room for both of them in this world.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 5
Kudos: 45





	Into Dark Places

It’s been a long time since Sam’s been this close to Dean. 

Sam had a wife, once. A dog. A life that was headed somewhere nice.

And then Dean had happened. This fucking mafia ghost that made his life hell. Taunted him. Led him through San Diego, Flagstaff, New Orleans, on a merry chase to the east coast and back. A year on the road, a year of Dean finding him in crowded bars or on the wrong side of an alley fence. Always just barely ahead, always giving him clues that only he could follow. He’d foiled two robberies and three murders. Been too late for three others.

Six months in, Amelia had told his boss to tell him she couldn’t do it anymore. They sent the ring back by FedEx.

* * *

Sam doesn’t care about crowds anymore. He’s past propriety. So the next time he sees Dean somewhere that’s a lay low zone, he drags him bodily into the restroom.

“What are you doing?” Sam demands, slamming Dean into the stall door. “What do you think you’re playing at, here?”

Dean laughs, low and harsh. “Whatever I need to, Sammy,” he hisses. “Got your attention, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, and you’re going to regret it for the rest of your very short life,” Sam threatens, slamming him again until the door shakes. He was always good at his job. Never violent. So careful.

But the dam is breaking, and he wants Dean in _pieces_. 

Dean takes him by surprise, launching forward, yanking Sam’s head down and then burrowing his face into Sam’s shoulder and biting sharply.

Sam’s vision goes red and he presses back, one huge hand around Dean’s throat, squeezing, squeezing, and there’s a part of him telling him to stop, to get the cuffs, to do it right.

But the part of him in charge says this is the right way. The _only_ way. The only way they were ever going to end this - there’s no room for both of them in this world.

Sam leans in and bites down slowly, biting until he tastes blood and the sounds Dean makes are more than pain, these short sharp gasps as Sam steals his air and blood, well on his way to taking the man’s life. And it seems like somehow, Dean knows it, too. That it’s one or the other of them.

And suddenly Sam snaps back into himself and shivers, full body, because he’s nearly killed someone, ruined his own livelihood - let this man truly take everything from him. “No,” Sam growls, pulling his hand from Dean’s throat. “I won’t kill you.”

Dean falls to his knees, heaving in great gulps of air. “Good,” he manages between gasps, “Boy.” 

And then he leans forward and nuzzles Sam’s thigh, breath still coming hard, and Sam goes still as Dean’s mouth moves over his zipper, and it’s probably his imagination, but it feels hot and damp over his dick. Dean’s open mouth presses in, now, moving slowly over him like he has all the time in the world. Like somehow this is up to him. Like Sam isn’t the one who is going to arrest his ass just...just as soon…

He grabs Dean by the hair and hauls him up. “Don’t you dare,” he threatens, and then he presses against Dean, slams hips and torso into him, bends and takes. He bites, forces Dean’s mouth open, wider and wider, slides his tongue inside and takes, and _takes_ , and _he_ has the power here, dammit. _Finally._

Dean has taken everything and now it’s Sam’s turn.

Dean fights back, bites and presses, gets his mouth on Sam’s shoulder again and bites until Sam slams him back and grabs the front of his pants, dragging them open with fingers that shake with fury.

“You get what I _give_ you,” Sam tells him, and Dean’s smile goes wide and sharp, his eyes glint like Sam’s promised him a lifetime supply of Johnny Walker.

Sam grabs his dick roughly, and shit, the guy’s hard as nails, doesn’t need a second to get up to speed. Dean’s head slams back as Sam strokes him and then Dean’s hand is on him and they’re moving back, pressed together, breathing into each others mouths and jacking each other like it’s a race.

Dean comes first, Sam tumbling after, and he feels something on his wrist as Dean jerks him though it, and then Dean kisses him, filthy and deep.

“Next time,” Dean says roughly, “Want you to fuck me.”

Sam snarls and shoves him off. “Won’t _be_ -” Sam starts, and then he realizes his wrist is cuffed to the toilet. He grabs for Dean but it’s too late - he’s already got the door open and he’s just out of reach.

“Next time,” Dean promises, voice low, eyes dark.

And then he's gone.


End file.
